


Underhanded Tactics

by Kaerith



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dominance, Hate Sex, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26715859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: Vane studied him with that infuriating sense of amusement. "You cling to your honour. It makes you weak.""It makes me reliable.""It makes you predictable," Vane said, like he was correcting James' own misconception. "You honour an agreement I forced you into making. Here you are, naked and on your knees, the only thing forcing you to do this is yourhonour....Well," he amended, eyeing James' erection pointedly with his smirk widening.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/Charles Vane
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Underhanded Tactics

**Author's Note:**

> Woke up and wanted to write some BS smut. Did this in about an hour and a half, so please point out any grievous mistakes if you find any! <3

Vane was sprawled in an artfully casual way, one leg hooked over one arm of the chair. He had a knife and was spinning it in his hand, a lazy threat, and his sharp eyes watched James enter and close the door behind him. 

"Strip," he demanded in his low, gravelly voice. 

Disgust and shame battled within James' mind, but his cock was already responding to the idea of obeying. 

"You're welcome to change your mind," Vane reminded him, acting as if James backing out was exactly what he expected. The scorn in his voice and the smirk on his face goaded at James' pride, and he undid his belt and let that and his weapons drop to the floorboards. 

"Arrogant piece of sh-" 

"Shut up." Vane ordered in an off-handed way, his eyes watching the rising and falling of his knife. "Slaves don't speak. Unless you want a whipping?" 

James glowered but grit his teeth. He removed his coat and then his boots. Shirt and trousers and stockings. Then he stood there, angry and aroused. 

Vane caught his eye. "Everything," he rasped. James pushed off his shorts and stepped out of them with short, sharp movements. "Stop pretending you're a feral dog, _Jamie_ ," Vane said. "Your prick clearly tells me you want to be tamed." He let his knife's hilt land in his palm one last time and wrapped his fingers around it. He used the tip to motion toward himself. "Come here. _Crawl_." 

Humiliation and rage and a fearfully powerful lust simmered within James. He closed his eyes and lowered himself to his knees. The wood was uncomfortable on his bony joints, and grains of sand embedded themselves in his skin as he crawled to Vane. He lifted his head and glared at the other captain's smug face. 

Vane's amusement and enjoyment at his debasement was plain to see by the glint in his eyes and his close-lipped smirk. "I'm wondering..." He said slowly. "Will getting you off make you easier or harder to control? Which would be greater, after: your resentment or your afterglow?" 

James chanced a response. "There has to be a flame of passion for there to be an afterglow," he spat out. "You and I have no love for each other." 

"Ah, but _passion_ ," Vane said. "Our mutual hate, your impotent rage... would you not call that passion?" 

"I have never been anything but potent," James snarled. "After this, I can give you another demonstration of my very dangerous rage!" 

Vane studied him with that infuriating sense of amusement. "You cling to your honour. It makes you weak." 

"It makes me reliable." 

"It makes you predictable," Vane said, like he was correcting James' own misconception. "You honour an agreement I forced you into making. Here you are, naked and on your knees, the only thing forcing you to do this is your _honour._ ...Well," he amended, eyeing James' erection pointedly and his smirk widening. 

James was trembling with mortification as well as his hatred for the awful man. He couldn't speak through the shame clogging his throat. 

"I would have stabbed you at that first order were our roles reversed," Vane said. "I had heard the rumours, though, and was intrigued." 

James wished he had the strength to just stand and leave. But Vane was correct; there was more than just his honour keeping him here. He wished to know what possible rumours the other captain could have heard but also preferred ignorance. He was the most feared pirate this side of the world; what could a few baseless rumours do to harm that reputation? It was best not to know. Not to rise to Vane's obvious baiting. 

Vane stood, abruptly, and worked his trousers off one-handed, knife still at the ready. He had already removed his belt and boots, so the clothing easily dropped to the floor between them. He collapsed back into the chair, spread his knees, and then nodded his chin at his cock. "Let's see if the other rumours prove true as well." 

The sight of Vane's prick looking so vulnerable and soft contrasted with the perpetual and implacable roughness of his voice and the moment and the meaning seemed to ignite all of James' nerves with the electricity of a lightning bolt. He lifted a hand, reaching for it almost unconsciously. 

"Use your mouth," Vane said, leaning forward. "And the second I feel teeth you will feel my blade at your throat." 

James didn't acknowledge his words with anything except to shuffle closer on his knees and take up the man's flesh carefully with his lips and tongue. He was relieved that the man had had the decency to wash. Vane smelled clean and masculine and just the scent of him made James' head begin to spin. As Vane's cock began to stiffen James couldn't prevent himself from drooling and slavering with greed and satisfaction. It had been years since he had let himself do this, and the shameful monster that lurked inside of him unfurled and took over. 

Within minutes Vane was guiding James' movements with a hand in his hair as he thrust his hips up and groaned. "You have a whore's mouth, Flint. A voracious appetite for cock, don't you? Tell me, wouldn't you find more satisfaction in life as a ship's slut? No more bother about honour and gold and politics; just getting fucked every single day the way you secretly desire. Shit, you take my cock like a man starved for it." 

There was an intimate and euphoric sense of power one had sucking off a man, James mused. Every mortal man was controlled by his cock to some extent; putting one's prick into another person's mouth or hands was almost like handing over the wheel to his body, and the mind often followed along. At this moment Vane's body was eagerly dancing to James' tune, but the man was too wary to drop all of his defenses- his knife was still ready in his hand, not about to fall from slack fingers. 

As much as James used the force of his stare and voice and physical presence to make an opponent back down, this was another subtle battle of wills. A game James too rarely got to play. And Vane was a challenging rival. He fucked into James' throat like he was on the verge of release _and kept doing it_. James didn't know if it was natural stamina, a health problem, or Vane's infuriatingly stubborn mental control. Chancing a glance up at Vane's face, he surmised that it was either the former or the latter. 

"I've had better," Vane rasped, and it made that perverse beast inside of James bridle at that verbal strike at his skill. "If you want this to end, beg for it." 

James would rather suffer the ache in his jaw than plead to take Vane's spend. The man laughed at James' glare. 

James pulled off his prick and moved his oral attentions to Vane's bollocks, flattening his tongue and laving over the hairy, tender skin with deliberate gentleness. The pirate made a pleased sound and sank lower in his seat giving James more access. He sucked one sac into his mouth and rolled it around before doing the same with the other one, giving Vane the barest graze of his teeth that made his cock twitch. When Vane made a noise close to a growl James knew he needed to move on. Instead of going back to Vane's cock, James moved his mouth lower. The captain had obligingly washed here, too, otherwise James would have never used this tactic. 

Vane was, like the few men James had done this to, a veritable virgin with this act. The first touch of James' tongue to his anus made his entire body seize and his eyes widen. His knife finally dropped to the floor as his hands scrabbled to clutch the chair arms as his back arched. _"What the fuck--"_

James didn't insult him, yet. First he had to press his advantage, make Vane unravel with his tongue in a way he never had been taken apart before. James' tongue was a weapon like this, even without using his voice. He kept things wet, lapping at the furl and the sensitive skin around it. He heard Vane groan, "Disgusting!" and smirked to himself. It was another act of power, and Vane was too distracted by the perceived baseness of the act itself to even realise how quickly he was submitting. Fluid dripped from Vane's cock as the pirate instinctively pushed his arse at James, the novel pleasure something he couldn't hold himself from chasing. 

Vane only panted and moaned when James dug his tongue in a little, and James kept working through the strain on his mouth. He kissed and sucked at the orifice, until it was twitching and opening up like it was begging for something more. Vane's head was thrown back and his eyes shut, so James took his prick in hand and gave it firm strokes while he finally speared his tongue inside, and Vane finally shook apart with a veritable howl behind his clenched teeth. His seed erupted from him and dripped onto James' hand and face and hair. James pulled himself off and climaxed with much more dignity and Vane didn't even seem to notice. 

He pulled away and sat back, reveling in both the feelings of triumph and orgasm. He thought of the perfect thing to say to Vane and couldn't stifle the anticipatory and predatory smile. He got to his feet; Vane could enjoy his _afterglow_ while James got dressed; his part of their contract fulfilled. 

"You deviant pervert," Vane finally said when he recovered. James was shrugging on his coat and smiled privately at the mingled horror and admiration in his tone. "Who even fucking thinks of that, let alone does it?" 

"I thought you enjoyed your reputation of sexual prowess with the ladies, Vane," Flint said, turning to him as he put his weapons into place. "I've certainly overheard your explicit accounting of your exploits." 

Vane's expression remained one of confusion, but irritation joined it. "What the hell does that have to do with this?" 

Flint gave him a sharp-edged smile. "I figured you would know that a cunt loves to be licked." He wished to see the shock on Vane's face morph into furious anger, but his instincts of self-preservation had him ducking out the door and making a hasty exit. He made sure Vane could hear his laughter, though.


End file.
